


Babysitter

by Dweo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-04
Updated: 2011-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dweo/pseuds/Dweo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is a soldier, a doctor, a spy and the best man she has. Now she has been training him for his most demanding assignment yet, babysitting a mad man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Babysitter

John always knew how he would die, but life had its way of surprising him.

***  
November 2009

It felt like being punched in the shoulder and it took his body a few moments to catch up with events.

It took his mind a few moments more. Only when he saw the blue sky and the bright sun he knew he was no longer crouching, but lying flat on his back. It was also the moment he realised he was in trouble.

"And I wasn't even supposed to be here," was the last thing his mind supplied while he lay on his back, bleeding to death.

***  
April 2009

"You want me to do what?"

"Flush out the Taliban recruiter."

"Yeah I thought you said that. Why?"

"You’re the best I've got."

"I am?"

"Yes of course you are. False modesty doesn't suit you. You're my best man. It's why I made you babysitter to an idiotic royal with a death wish. You know the war. You know how things work in Afghanistan. You already have the perfect cover. "

"I'll just go pack my things then, Ma'am?"

"Yes, that would be a good idea. Briefing 0600 tomorrow."  
***  
April 2010

John was getting used to unexpected things the last few months, but the events of the evening kept surprising him.

He looked from the gun to the bomb to the man holding the gun and with a small nod he sealed his fate. He lived his whole life in the firing line and he was going out in a blaze of glory.

He had few regrets in his life, but this, this was his one regret. He failed before, but this failure was the worst, his failure to protect the brilliant man before him, his failure to protect the only person he could call a friend.

And it was the last fact that surprised him the most.

***  
October 2009

John knew what he was about to do was stupid, reckless and would get him reprimanded at best. And he wasn't even going to think about the worst. He kept cursing under his breath as he packed his things. He was supposed to be a simple army doctor, safely packed away in a field hospital. But his mission had been going nowhere for the last five months, so he had to do something and volunteering as a medic was doing something.

Hunting down the Taliban recruiter had been tedious and difficult, but not as tedious and difficult as pretending to be an army doctor. Saving people was his thing, but usual he did it with a sniper rifle not a surgeon scalpel. It reminded him once again why he had joined the Service during medical school. Killing people was easy, losing them because you couldn't save them was the hardest thing in the world.

So now here he was throwing himself headlong into the most dangerous place in the world. He wondered what the Service shrinks would put in his file this time.

***  
December 2009

"Come to say goodbye? Come to say farewell before sending me off to a retirement home?"

"John…"

"No, I don't want your pity, Ma'am."

"John, I'm not accepting your resignation. You're still too valuable to me to let you go."

"What use do you have for an agent who is so warped in his mind he even imagines a leg injury? An agent that can't even hold a pen properly anymore. An agent that gets himself shot."

"You're still the best man I have."

"So I'll be sitting at a desk reading reports. I'll probably be dead in months; I'm not a desk monkey."

"Actually, I've job for you, a babysitting job. I think it would be good for you."

"I'm not a babysitter either. I mean, once was more than enough, even retirement is better. Babysitting is for tall, strong men, not for short-ass invalided doctors. It's for men with even temperaments, the ability to follow orders, no sense of boredom. Does that sound anything remotely like me?"

"John, you're resourceful, stoic, can handle anything the world throws at you. And that is what I need for this job. Oh, and believe me your own boredom will be the last of your worries, my son's on the other hand…"


End file.
